


Hero

by Hectrex



Category: Apex Legends (Video Games)
Genre: 31 Days of Apex (Apex Legends), Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2020-07-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:54:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25231207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hectrex/pseuds/Hectrex
Summary: 31 Days of Apex - Day 13 - Hero: Revenant isn’t a hero, but that won’t stop some from seeing it that way.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 40





	Hero

"Heads up Elliot," called Wraith.

Mirage turned around with his hands out, expecting to catch a bundle of fan mail (that was the usual delivery). Instead, he was met with Wraith leaning against the entrance to his room.

She continued to fill him in, "In a few weeks they've got us doing a photoshoot for some fans. Coordinators are promoting a new sponsor and they want everybody there to encourage people to watch."

"Oh, cool! Always love a chance to meet the fans, make 'em swoop."

"You mean 'swoon'?"

Without missing a beat, Mirage replied, "That's what I said. I'll make sure to clear my calendar."

As Wraith started to walk out, Mirage asked, "Wait, did you say, _everybody_? Including Mr. Eat-Your-Face-And-Wear-Your-Skin? I hope he wasn't listening. _If you are listening, that was just a joke Mr. Revenant. Please save my skin for last."_

Wraith turned around, her expression unhappy, "Yes, even Revenant."

"Won't he dissect the crowd? I know that's Caustic's moldy opera, modus operongdo… his _thing_ , but at least he doesn't do it in the open and laugh."

"I've got it on good authority," the authority of Bangalore's favorite Wingman, "that he'll keep in line. If he does act up, I'll be close by, so he's one portal away from a volcano."

"Okay," said Mirage, still unsure of the whole prospect, "I wonder what they offered him to stay civil. Probably the blood of a virgin or Forge's soul. Or something."

A few weeks later.

"... so we are proud to invite Carmellian Coffee as our newest sponsor! And remember: If you want to conquer, you want Carmellian! Now, if you would like an autograph from your favorite legend please line up in an orderly fashion at their designated booth. Group photos will take place at 3:30."

The announcer stepped off the stage as the crowd bustled from the hall. The legends began walking from the stage as well, led by security under the intense spotlights. While leaving, some of their idle chatter could be heard by fans in the front seats.

"Really? Coffee? And they didn't ask me to be their mascot? Must be some pretty weak brew, if you're asking me, amigo," complained Octane.

"I find this partnership to be most _beneficial_ ," noted Caustic as he took a sip from his mug.

"Well, Bangalore, it's not every day that you hand out autographs. What got you to loosen up?" winked Mirage.

"Oh, I'm not just letting them slip. They'll have to beat me at arm wrestling if they want that pen in my hands. Make 'em work for it," smirked Bangalore.

Mirage chuckled, "It's gonna be a hard day for some of these kids."

Wraith, however, was lagging behind the others. Security was usually pretty tight, but they weren't paying close enough attention to Revenant, who was creepily staring out at the moving crowd. He really didn't have another aura besides "creepy", but that didn't make it any more reassuring.

Revenant had decided that he had held up his end of the bargain. The Syndicate had told him he wouldn't need to stay for autographs, and he knew full well his booth would have no line. Not that it mattered. Thanks to this little stint of good behavior, he now had some vacationing to do without any prying eyes. Just some eyes being pried, among other parts.

The simulacrum began to walk off the stage in the opposite direction of the other legends. Wraith began to walk after him, but felt her stomach sink and her head fill with shouts when a young child broke from the crowd and met the killer on his path.

The crowd and other legends quickly noticed as a wave of unease swept through the room, their lungs collectively frozen and quivering (except for Pathfinder, who still found this exciting, to say the least). Nobody was close enough to do anything. The legends knew how quick Revenant's blades could be, seemingly faster than any weapon they could draw. The only people who didn't care were Revenant and his biggest fan.

"Mr. Revenant!" announced the child, "I made this for you!"

The young boy had scruffy black hair and was missing a couple of teeth. He was wearing a baggy grey shirt with an ankh on it, and his arms were raised up high to share a small, crumpled letter.

Revenant reached down and took hold of the letter, then unfolded it. Within was a crudely drawn picture of the simulacrum and his totem, both of which looked like a marionette and pyramid. Next to these was a short, scribbled message:

"Dear Mr. Revenant,

I'm your biggesst fan. I like the way you kill peeple. You're also really good at climing and I like climing so maybe one day I'll be a great climer like you are.

Thanks for being cool,

Anthony"

Revenant finished reading the message and was prepared to rip it to shreds, then scream in the kid's face. He locked eyes with the child and… stopped. Everything stopped.

The kid.

The crowd.

The legends.

The universe.

Everything except Revenant's mind, wherever that was. Something stirred deep within the mire of his code and neurons, a mental Jörmungandr loosening grip on its tail. And there it was, some buried scene from beyond the crumbling years.

The memory was surprisingly crisp. Locks of messy blonde hair were pushed out of his eyes after running through the crowd to see Marcus Van de Graaf, his favorite actor. Van de Graaf played all the villains in the big movies, but was always so powerful and magnetic. He gave feeling and meaning and purpose to those characters, and the young boy was always entranced. Before he could reach out with his letter, his mother's hand grabbed hold of his hair and yanked him away from the red carpet.

Fading.

The universe.

The legends.

The crowd.

The kid.

_The kid._

Some wrongs can still be righted, even centuries later.

The boy in front of Revenant was quickly held close by his mother. She had run, barreling through the crowd, once she realized where he had disappeared to. Now, the woman was sweating bullets as she looked up at the towering scaffolding of metal and hatred.

"I thought you wanted to see Gibraltar!" she scolded.

"I lied, mommy. I knew you wouldn't want me to see Mr. Revenant. I'm sorry," said the boy with a smile still on his face.

Wraith had begun sneaking closer while the mother was speaking. Phase energy was charging in the Voidwalker's hands.

Revenant reached down and patted the boy on the head, then said, "I'm nobody's hero, kid."

The simulacrum walked a few steps, then stopped. Without looking back, he held up the letter and offered one of his rarest possessions: "But thanks."

As Revenant lurched into the distance, everybody remembered how to breathe and slowly, but surely, moved on to the autograph booths.

Some things aren't really lost. They're just buried.


End file.
